Dragonhunters
by The Blue Sorceress
Summary: a bizzare group of heroes meet The Blades of Honor and together the two groups set off on a quest of discovery and dragon-slaying. The world will never be the same again. *chapter 1-4*
1. chapter 1

Chapter 1

            In Athkatla, the late days of Nightall, or The Drawing Down, as it more commonly known, as soggy, cold, miserable days, where the best thing to do is seclude oneself by a warm fire and not move from it save to fetch a mug of ale or mulled wine.  The wealthy merchants and nobility take this to heart, and don't stir much except to hobnob with one another, sign off on trade documents, or go over finances and such.  Everyone else just goes about their usual daily routine, albeit much damper and with a heightened chance of coming down with whatever fell disease is going around.  Then there is a third group of people, those who are neither a part of society nor apart from it.

            Adventurers.

            It's safe to say that most common folk either love or revile adventurers; there really isn't much room for feelings of the in between variety, though some cases are the exception to the rule.  In particular, one rather famous group of adventurers, once a ragtag collection of disparate men and women of various races and creeds but now banded together under common leadership and mutual admiration, if not friendship, holds a sort of questionable place in the hearts of Athkatlans: The Blades of Honor.  The somewhat uncertain general feeling of the Athkatlans toward their very own group of do-gooders is that many of them have both benefited and be the targets of some very, very enthusiastic do-gooding. Those on the receiving end of the Blade's sword points, mace heads, clubs, spells, arrows and various other weaponry and magery, generally leave those encounters either in body bags or with a healthy dose of anger and resentment.

            In their escapades within Amn and without the Blades made quite a name for themselves, in particular their leader, Brynn Trueblade, the half-elven daughter of the dead god Bhaal, who despite her heritage, is generally found by most people that meet her a pleasant person.  

            Thus Brynn developed something of a following among young warriors throughout Faerun, and occasionally they would track her down to her home base in Athkatla at the Copper Coronet Inn, and shower her with praise until she wanted to retch.  

            Thankfully, on one particularly nasty night in the last tenday of The Drawing Down, the woman who dragged her complaining companions into the musty, badly-lit confines of the Copper Coronet was not quite that a devoted idolater.  

            Not quite.

            "I can't believe we're finally here!"

            "Bryseus, would you calm down?"

            "I'm in heaven! Hsanin, I could die now a happy woman."

            "Bry, this place is a pit!  It stinks of drunk people who haven't washed in months!"

            "Redleaf, that's you.  Now shut up, you're ruining the mood!"

            "Bryseus are you certain we have the correct inn, this doesn't seem to be the home of heroes."

            "It's got ambiance Ashram!"

            "Its ambiance smells like skunk farts."

            "Red, I told you to shut up."

            "I do believe he is correct."

            "Alysandyr, don't you mutiny on me too!"

            "Bah! I've smelt worse.  Try a merc camp after three rainy days of battle and then a day so hot you could fry eggs on your armor. Ain't nothing I've ever smelt that smelt worse… not even troglodyte stench."

            "That's the spirit, Anna! Come on, this is the place where so much recent history was born!  See those dragon heads up there?  In that room is where the Blades prepared before they took out the vampire queen and launched their assault on the captured elven city of Sundanesselar! History I tell you, history! They're heroes!"

            "Bryseus, _calm down."_

            "Aw, come on, Hsanin! It's like if you got to meet a big head-priesty guy and see his house and all his cool trophies.  I'm supposed to be excited."

            "Not this excited; you're attracting attention."

            And indeed Bryseus was attracting attention, for many of the tavern patrons were looking at her with expressions that were equal parts irritation and boredom.

            "Oh, well, let's just sit down and have a beer or something until they get here."

            "Bry, this place is a _dive, and coming from me that's saying something."_

            "Red, for the last time: Shut. Up."

            "Be nice or I'll set Thorple on you."

            "I fear not your weasel, tree-boy."

            "You should.  He has a tendency to viciously attack anyone who calls me 'tree-boy.'"

            "Speaking of that, if those cuts scar I'm going to wring that stupid little rodent's scrawny little neck."

            "Yeah, Anna, you and what army?"

            "Me and _this army."_

            "Oh that was _so lame! I need ale after a stinker like that one.  How'd we get this stupid conversation started anyway?  Bar wench, bring me ale!"_

            "You called this place a dive. That's how it got started."

            "When has the quality of the establishment ever stopped me from taking advantage of free booze?  It was merely whining for the sake of harassing you a little bit, Bry."

            "Who said the booze'd be free, you drunkard?"

            "Well I assumed that…"

            "Red, you drink like a horse, we can't afford to pay for you and still get rooms here at the inn."

            "Well if Hsanin'd sell some of those pretty trinkets…"

            "For the last time, _absolutely not! These item are family heirlooms, I'm not selling any of them so that you can go on a drinking binge."_

            "It's not for a drinking binge, it for rooms, Hsanin, see the floating gold pays for the drinking, the selling of the… heh… 'family heirlooms' pays for shelter and soft comfy beds for us to pass out in _after the drinking binge."_

            "I can't believe you're a druid."

            "Nothing about liking trees and nature says I can't like a good drink too.  I can't believe you're a cleric the way you hoard your stuff."

            "Nothing about being a cleric says I can't be sentimental."

            "Hsanin, love, you're being sentimental with enough magic items to buy and sell this dump five times over.  Someday we might need that gold to buy better magic items."

            "Bryseus keep it down would you? I'd rather _not get my pockets picked.  Besides, you can't __get better magic items."_

            "Hey, no need to get defensive!"

            "You're in a bad mood today."

            "That's because it's 'that time of the…'"

            "Anna Stormblade if you finish that sentence I'm going to gut you."

            "How're you going to do that?"

            "With my sword."

            "My sword's bigger than your sword."

            "Ladies, ladies, as I always say, it's not the size of the sword, it's how you use it.  My dad was an elf, but he was a real ladies man, and you know what they say about elves."

            "No, Redleaf, what _do the say about elves?"_

            "Well, uh, you know, they're not as… _well endowed as humans, but they must be fun in the sack, 'cause the ladies __love 'em."_

            "So you take after your father then?"

            "What? No! I take after my mother's side of the family.  I like the benefits of my human side."

            "Speaking on behalf of male elves everywhere, I think you are being a tad unfair."

            "Alysandyr, you're not an elf."

            "Well I know _that, Bryseus."_

            "Well then you can't be speaking from experience unless there's something about you we don't know."

            "Oh no! It's always the good looking ones.  I should've known when you said you were a bard! For the sake of women everywhere, say it ain't so!"

            "Anna, cut that out!  It's not funny."

            "Excuse me, but I think we have squabbled enough for now.  It seems Redleaf's beer has arrived.  I suggest we partake while we still can."

            "Ah, there you go, listen to the paladin.  Ashram, you're always the voice of reason!  Give me my beer! And put a bottle of your finest wine on the tab."

            "Redleaf!"

            "Okay, okay, not your finest, but something that doesn't taste like my weasel peed in it, okay?"

            "I'm not sure we should let you have any beer, or wine for that matter, Red."

            "Bryseus, that's a cruel, cruel joke on a man who's been dry for the last week."

            "I mean it. You're abrasive and crude as it is."

            "You know very well that I get better after I've gotten a pint or two in me."

            "Yes, because at least when you pass out you cease to wag that jaw of yours."

            "Ally boy, you slay me."

            "I only say it because I love you."

            "Nooooo!"

            "Anna, stop it, he doesn't mean it like _that!"_

            It was at the beginning of this rather hectic, argumentative conversation that Brynn Trueblade and her companions entered the Copper, soaking wet from the rain and feeling slightly disgruntled.  They watched the five strangers as the talked, joked and argued before sitting down around one of the tables with a bottle of wine and several pints of bitter beer.  From what Brynn could tell, Bryseus was a petite blonde half-elf, and was either married or the next thing to married to the pale skinned, dark-haired cleric of Lathander –also a half elf- called Hsanin.  She was perplexed by the 'druid' whom the strangers called 'Redleaf' for he did not resemble in anyway, shape or form any druid _she had every known.  She guessed he earned his name for his well-groomed mane of shoulder-length red-gold hair and his bright green eyes.  She had to agree with the dark-haired fighter with the Ogre-sized greatsword strapped to her back –Anna she though the woman's name was- that it would be a shame if Alysandyr was not meant for womankind.  A crying shame, for he was quite possibly the most handsome man she'd ever laid eyes on; his hair was nearly white it was so blonde, and his face almost feminine in its beauty.  The last member of the group made her head spin more than the druid, for it was plain to see from the roots of his long, straight, ebony hair to the burning red points of light that were his eyes that he sported fiendish blood somewhere in his ancestry, and yet Redleaf had called him a paladin.  Would wonders never cease?_

            She decided to stop her observation and confront them directly, seeing as, from what she could gather, they had stopped by at the Copper to see her and the Blades.

            "Hello, welcome to the Copper Coronet, you look wet and soggy, like most everyone does these drab days, can I help you with anything or you just here for the eh… heh heh, 'ambiance?'"

            All but the druid looked at her in frank disbelief.  Bryseus looked caught between horrible, incurable embarrassment and joy.

"Lady you must mean the stink," said Redleaf, either not noticing the expression of his companions or not caring.  "Skunk-fart's what we call it back at the grove, leastwise, _I do. You gotta get some clean air in this dump.  But that can wait.  Bring me more beer and make it snappy.  There might be a little extra __tip in it for you, if you get my drift." He winked and Bryseus looked about read to keel over._

"Redleaf," said the red-eyed tiefling, "you are a fool of unbelievable proportions."

"Do you know who that _is?" Bryseus squeaked._

"I don't care so long as she brings me alcohol.  So far as I'm concerned, if she's not the beer wench, she doesn't matter.  Here, sweetheart, plop that bouncy bottom of yours into my lap.  Hey, you're a half-elf too.  So am I, but I bet you could tell that."  He gave Brynn a sly look.  "You know, I'm half-elf, but I'm _fully human in some respects." It was then that he had the nerve to point to his lap and say, "If you're lucky, I'll show you my weasel after you get off work."_

"Lathander save us, we're all going to die," Hsanin said quietly.

Brynn could not contain herself anymore, and doubled nearly in half, finding herself forced to lean against the table until the fit of laughter subsided.  "I like you guys!" she gasped.  "Stars and moons, you're great."

"Yuck it up later, Beer Wench, bring me ale now.  Redleaf's belly says 'bring ale! Must have ale!'" Redleaf said, doing a remarkably good impression of just about every ogre Brynn had ever met.

"Great Gods above us, Redleaf if you do not shut up, I will be forced to _shut you up violently," said the tiefling angrily.  "You are making all of us look like inane drunkards and with lecherous intentions toward everyone of the opposite gender!"  He took time to regain his composure before saying to Brynn.  "My lady Trueblade, if I have judged correctly and that is who you are, I apologize for my companion's behavior.  There truly is no excuse for it, save that he was raised in a bar for the formative years of his life -though sometime I think it was a __barn he was raised in."_

"It's okay," Brynn said.

"Yeah, it's okay," Redleaf echoed.  "She knows I don't mean it really, right lady Trueblade?"

"Right.  Did you just figure out who I was now, or have you known all along?"

"Oh I knew from the beginning.  I just have this thing… if the mighty can't take a good joke at their expense they're not really all that mighty, you know?"

"Sit down, have a beer," Hsanin offered.  "Your companions are welcome too, if they care to join.  Though, no doubt you and they both would like to get into to drier clothes."

"Redleaf here has put me in a good enough humor that a little dampness doesn't bother me much.  However I would suggest going up to headquarters, there's more room up there, and we've got a running tab here so the ale flows like water.  Plus it ah… smells better."

"That sounds wonderful," Hsanin said.

Brynn called the Blades over, and together all of them went up the stairs and into the Blades' headquarters.  They pulled a number of chairs around the table in the center of the room and all sat down, except for Anna, who decided she'd rather stand by the wall.

  "So, I suppose we ought to introduce ourselves," Bryseus said, over her stunned silence now that she had met her hero and found her to be not as aloof as she had expected.  "I'm Bryseus de Rowan, and this is my husband Hsanin."

Hsanin ducked his head politely and said, "I am honored to meet you all." 

"I am called Ashram Abyssguard," said the tiefling.

"I am Alysandyr Miron, formerly of Luskan, formerly of Uluvin," said the handsome bard.

"M'name's Anna Stormblade," said Anna gruffly.

            "And I'm Redleaf, druid and merry drunk.  Give me that bottle of wine, sweetheart."  Redleaf grasped in the direction of the wine, which was near Aerie, and the elf girl put the bottle in his eager fingers.

            "So, tell us a little about yourselves," Imoen prompted.  "You seem like a bunch of interesting people."

            "Honey," said Redleaf, "interesting doesn't begin to cover it."

To Be Continued

________________________________________________________________________

Author's Notes

            I'm working on this at the same time as Insurrection.  I've got all these ideas and I sort of feel like getting them down before I forget them all.  Just in case you're curious I've got the stats for our new friends.

Bryseus de Rowan: half-elf female; NG; Ftr7; str18, dex17, con15, int15, wis14,cha16.

Hsanin de Rowan: half-elf male; NG; Clr7 of Lathander; str17, dex14, con16, int15, wis18, cha16.

Alysandyr Miron: tiefling male; CG; Brd3/Sor3 (total character level 7); str14, dex19 con16, int14, wis11, cha18.

Ashram Abyssguard: tiefling male; LG; Pal6 (total character level 7); str16, dex15, con12, int14, wis14, cha16.

Anna Stormblade: human female; NG; Ftr6; str15, dex12, con12, int11, wis9, cha12.

Redleaf: half-elf male; NG; Drd6/Rgr1; str16, dex18, con14, int12, wis18, cha13.

            I've played all of these various and sundry characters in a couple of different campaigns.  Their all in 3rd Edition, in case you were wondering about the multi-classing stuff.

            Please review!

The Blue Sorceress 


	2. chapter 2

Redleaf's Tale

            With a quirky grin that reached all the way to his bright green eyes, Redleaf began to tell the Blades the short version of his life story.  "My mother was the owner of a small tavern just outside of a druid grove not far from Unicorn Run," he said.  "She was… well, to put it bluntly, a big slut.  I had four brothers and five sisters, no more than two by the same father, and ranging in race from half-elf to half-orc, with one tiefling to spice up the mix.  I had a weird, weird childhood."  

            He paused to take a huge gulp of wine straight from the bottle on the table at his side.  "When I was ten-ish, mother got sick all of a sudden, and me being the oldest, I sorta got left in charge of things.  So I decided to go to the druids for help.  I think I wandered around in those damn woods for three days, no food no water, until I finally found the damn druid grove.  I was a mess, all soggy –it had rained- smelly and snot-nosed, but the druids dried me off and asked what the problem was.  I told 'em, and so we headed back to the tavern.  We got there in time to find out my mother was dead, which really sent me through a loop I'll tell ya, and that she'd been that way since not more'n an hour or so after I left."

            "What a horrible thing to have happen!  Your poor brothers and sisters!" Aerie sympathized.  "What did you do?"

            "I'm getting to that part, sweet-cheeks," Redleaf told her.  "Don't start feeling to bad for us orphans, 'cause there was some good news to go with the rotten.  My dad, as it turns out, was one of the druids from the grove.  He wasn't too happy to find out that he had a bastard half-breed son, but he was real civil about it, and not only agreed to keep me, but to keep the rest of the litter as well, even my half-orc sister (I can't explain _her except to say mom musta been really drunk that night)."  He took another swig of wine and continued.  "So dad took me and the rest back to the grove and set about raising us up proper and druid like.  Olia, the half-orc one, took to trees like a squirrel.  Come to think of it, I think she can change __into a squirrel now.  Anyway, most of the rest of us got along with dad and nature pretty good.  Except Denby, who wanted to be wizard, but every family tree has its screwy branches, huh?  Me," and here Redleaf shrugged, "I couldn't've given a hoot about trees at first, except that dad liked 'em, so that meant they must be pretty good.  So I started hanging on dad like a leech, trying to learn all there was to learn about druiding n'stuff.  Eventually he got tired of that and pawned me off on some rangers, but for a while he and I were real close, whether he like it or not._

            "It was 'round then I got my name.  See, I was named Melvin at birth, but even mom regretted that after she sobered up, so she always used to call me 'son' or 'kiddo.'  I didn't even know I _had a name until a tavern patron told me so one night when I was six or something.  Basically, 'son' and 'kiddo' stuck around until dad had to introduce me to some guests.  _

            "'And this is my son… er… Red… uh… Red… leaf.  Redleaf,' he said.  

            "That was pretty much that, as far as my name was concerned.  I have red hair, so that part worked, and 'leaf' sounded pretty druidy, so I liked it."

            "How did you end up with Bryseus and Hsanin?" Brynn asked.

            "Oh ho!" Redleaf laughed.  "You'd never believe it."

            "I am having trouble believing that the grove even let you continue your druidic studies," Jaheira remarked acidly.  The expression on her face was one of distaste as she added, "They must be an odd order indeed."

            Redleaf shrugged Jaheira's thinly veiled insults aside.  "Eh, yeah, odd about covers it, but that's only 'cause me and the rest of the brats were there.  They tried real hard to keep the lot of us in line, and they did it, for the most part.  I was the single exception to that, unless you count Denby, which nobody does in this case.  The guys in charge really irked me with their rules n'stuff.  So I got out of the grove for a while on the pretext that I wanted to collect botany samples.  I met up with Bry and Hsanin and Ash somewhere near Uluvin and said to myself, 'hey, these three look like a ton of laughs' so I hooked up with them, and the rest is, as they say, history."  With that Redleaf downed half of the remaining wine in one big gulp, set the bottle down and let out a contented sigh.  "Any questions?"

Hsanin's Tale

            There were no questions, and so Redleaf said, "So I guess I'll turn things over to Hsanin and let him tell his part of the story."

            Hsanin, frowned slightly and shifted in his chair.  His dark hair fell over his grey eyes as he bowed his head and began to speak, his voice deep, pleasant, and calming.  "Have you heard the tales of the heroes of Icewind Dale?  Those who fought off the Legion of the Chimera and their predecessors?"  He waited until he got confirmation that the Blades had indeed heard of the adventurers he was talking about before he continued.  "The heroes of 1281 counted my grandparents among them, and those of 1312, my parents."  He smiled softly.  "You might say that adventuring is in my blood." Then his smile faded, and his eyes grew sad and serious.  "So is tragedy.  My grandparents and their companions disappeared while exploring an ancient castle, and my parents were assassinated as they slept.  

Many have said that my parents should have taken more care to guard themselves, my father being a highly respected member of Lathander's clergy, and my mother a warrior of great fame.  In my childhood I heard many whispers, quiet and not meant for my ears, that they should have known that the forces of evil wanted them dead, and if they had taken the proper precautions they would never have died as they did.  I was only a baby when it happened, so I have no memory of that night.  I only know what the priests who raised me told me.  They say they came to visit my parents one morning only to find them murdered in their bed, and me wailing and hungry in my crib nearby.  Because I had no other relatives, the church of Lathander in Waterdeep took me in and raised me.  The priests who had known my parents filled my ears with tales of what they had done, and those who had known my grandparents did the same, but that was as close as I would ever come to knowing them myself.  

My parent's companions visited sometimes, to look in on me and to reminisce with my guardians about times past.  I enjoyed their company most times, and they always remarked how like my father I looked, and how like him I was in my manners and practices.  I took after him in vocation too, and became a priest of Lathander.  It was my calling, and unavoidable, I suppose, considering my situation and family history.  The comparison with my father always remained though, and it was a difficult burden to bear the expectations of those who had known him.

Thus I grew up, the only child within the church, until one day when I ran, quite literally, into Bryseus here while I was on an errand in the city."

Bryseus' Tale

            "Mind if I take over here?" Bryseus asked, taking Hsanin's hand in her own and looking at him with brilliant blue-green eyes full of love and affection.

            "Go ahead, it is more your tale than mine from here on out anyway," Hsanin agreed.

            Bryseus smiled.  "I'm not sure about _that," she said, "but I'll let it go."  She turned her smile on the blades and used her free hand to brush her blonde hair behind her ears before she began.  "I don't know anything about my life before I was ten years old," she said.  "I found myself wandering the streets of Waterdeep one summer morning knowing only my name and my age." She shivered slightly.  "I don't know if any of you have ever experienced that sort of thing before, but I'll tell you anyway.  It's like you're cut off from the whole world.  Nothing means anything; it's all foreign and frightening and… well empty.  _

            "Hopelessly lost, I ran through the streets of Waterdeep, and when I was too tired to run anymore I walked, wandering aimlessly.  Somehow I found myself in one of the bad parts of the city.  Even Waterdeep has slums, though they are less obvious than those of say, Calimport or Luskan.  I didn't understand what sort of place I had come to, though, and so I walked up to a man and asked him where I was, and crying, told him that I knew nothing of who I was or where I had come from.  I chose the wrong man, and he grabbed for me, so I took off running again, now more terrified than ever.  I burst from the dark alleys onto a main street, and tumbled into Hsanin.  My pursuer must have vanished back into whatever hole he had crawled out of, because I didn't see any sign of him after that.  

            "Hsanin questioned me, and then carried me back to the church; I was too tired to walk.  The priests accepted me, choosing to raise me as they had Hsanin.  It became clear though, that I wasn't the sort that was going to follow a cleric's path, and so I began training with a sword master, and developed my skill.  It was strange… I seemed to already have a… a latent knowledge about fighting, but instead of clearing up my questions about my past, that only made them foggier.  

            "Despite the fact that they had chosen to raise me, the priests of Lathander worked to find out who my family was, thinking only to keep me if they could not find my parents.  When I was thirteen a couple came to the church in hopes that I was their missing daughter.  Everything sounded right: half-elven, blonde hair, blue eyes, three-and-ten-years old, built small.  Everyone had high hopes.  I was afraid though.  I couldn't help thinking that, if I was this couple's daughter, I might not be how they remembered me, that I wasn't who I was.

            "So I hesitated, not wanting to enter the room where they sat waiting for me.  Hsanin found me there, and asked, 'Aren't you excited to meet your parents, Bryseus?'

            I answered, 'yes, but I'm afraid.'

            'Just be yourself,' he told me, putting both hands on my shoulders and smiling at me.

            'I don't know who I am!' I cried.  'How can I be myself when I don't know _how to?'_

            Hsanin pulled me into a hug and said, 'don't be silly, you know who you are! You're Bryseus, the best thing that ever happened to this temple, a girl with great potential as a warrior, and my best friend.  You don't have to be who they remember, just be who you are now.  If they don't love you because of it, that's their loss.'"

            Bryseus broke into a big smile.  "I think I fell madly in love with him right then and there."  Hsanin blushed and Bryseus continued her tale.  "Despite all of our hopes, the couple that had come were not my parents.  I don't think I'll ever forget the way they looked at me, so disappointed.  The woman broke out in tears, and her husband comforted her, and crying too, I hugged them both and told them I was sorry I couldn't be their daughter for them.  Eventually the three of us put ourselves back together, and that was the end of that.  I told the head priest that I didn't want them to look for my family anymore, because the priests and Hsanin _were my family as far as I was concerned.  They accepted that, and life went on much as it had before, except that I never felt lost anymore._

            "The only thing on my mind was trying not to be too impatient to be twenty, when I would officially be an adult.  There were two benefits of that, the first being I could pick up my sword and go check out the world, and the second being that I would be old enough to marry Hsanin."

            "I honestly had no idea that she felt that way until she proposed to me just after her twentieth birthday party," Hsanin commented.  "I'd been growing more and more fond of her over the years, but I was ashamed to admit it.  She is, after all, ten yeas my junior, and I'd know her since she was a child.  I felt something like a dirty old man."

            "Cradle robber," Bryseus teased him affectionately.  Hsanin blushed again.  "Anyway, needless to say, all of those concerns did absolutely nothing to keep him from accepting, and we got married the next month.  It was sort of funny to see the look on the head priest's face when we told him; it was like 'well, finally!'

            "We honeymooned in Neverwinter for a month, then prepared to go see the world.  Hsanin stopped by one of the churches of Lathander there in order to notify the guys back in Waterdeep, and there we met Ashram, who was also heading out to see what good he could accomplish.  He joined up with us, and we went on from there as a trio."

Ashram's Tale

            Bryseus turned her eyes on the unlikely paladin and Ashram returned her gaze with slight displeasure.  "I assume you want me to tell of my history now?" he asked.

            "Not if you don't want to," Brynn spoke up, "but I _am curious to know how a tiefling became a paladin."_

            "As am I," Haer'Dalis agreed, his blue-gray eyes sparkling with good humor and curiosity.

 "I understand," said Ashram, the expression on his pale face friendly but guarded.  "I suspect that I ought to begin at the beginning of my life: my parents.  My father was the one who carried fiendish blood in his veins, his grandmother was a succubus.  My mother loved him despite his ever-changing nature, for she shared the same world-view as he: that life is meant for enjoyment, not for worries.  Father was a retired adventurer, a sneak-thief and picker of pockets of some skill, who had turned his gift for making maps into a cartography shop and magic wares emporium.  He was relatively successful, and he had a good name with many of the adventuring companies in the area due to the quality of his goods and the accuracy of his maps.  He was able to copy a map down after having seen it but once, and he mapped most every tomb, crypt forgotten castle and dungeon that he had encountered in his career from memory.  I remember watching him with a feeling of wonder as he worked, and he always would pause when I had a question.  Despite his nature, he was a loving father.  Mother was the same way, a kind, generous woman, who just so happened to also have a habit of putting her fingers in the pockets of others and then taking the gold she found there and giving it to whichever temple caught he fancy that day.  She was not greedy, just mischievous and carefree.  She told me many times, after I came home despondent after enduring the jeering and catcalls of my peers, 'Ashy, you're not a terrible boy, just a different one, and besides, red eyes are pretty on you.  Those kids are just jealous because you're going to be a handsome man when you grow up and they're going to look like their ugly fat fathers and ugly fat mothers.'  Thus I lived in relative comfort, despite the hatred of those around me."

Ashram's face grew dark, and his eye burned like embers beneath his ebony brows.  "But, my peace and contentment was shattered violently on day when I was eight.  My father had gained some enemies during his adventuring career, and one of them had become a high-ranked member of a mercenary company that had hired itself out as guards to a wealthy merchant in the city.  When he heard that my father lived within Neverwinter, he devised a plan to ruin him, and to make him suffer.  I do not know the exact details of what he did, but he raised a mob against my father and attacked him at the store.  The mob pulled him into the street and beat him near to death, then dragged him up the stairs from the store to our home.  My mother tired to block the door, but they burst through and seized her.  While some held my father, others stripped and raped my mother.  I cowered in a corner, fearful and sick, unable to move or do anything to stop what was happening.  The mercenary then slit my parents' throats and grabbed me by the shirt and dragged me to their bodies.  He pulled out his sword and prepared to slay me too, but at last my instincts returned to me, and I blinded him with magic, a gift of my heritage.  I evaded the mob and leapt from the widow, landing almost uninjured in the alley beside my home.  I fled then, and ran through the streets until I came to the temple of Lathander, which my mother had frequented often to give her stolen gifts, even though Lathander was not her patron god.  She said she though He was 'too goody-goody' for her sour heart, but she like flowers and springtime and children, and the priests there were always kind to her.  The priests recognized me, for my mother had taken me with her on occasion, and I say without pride that my face is not one that is easy to forget.  Seeing the fear on my face, they asked me what the matter was, and I told them the entire, terrible story, or at least what I knew.  The priests, enraged, then summoned the guard, but by the time they arrived my home had been set ablaze and the mob had vanished into the city.  There was nothing to be done, save arrest the mercenary that had started the whole thing and punish him for his crimes and leave the men who had followed him in blind, prejudicial rage return the their homes, and their families to live out their lives in anonymity.  I was angry about that for a time, but now I only pray that they at least feel guilt for what they did.  My hatred of them has gone me, leaving only sorrow that this world can create such people.

Ashram paused and sighed before he continued again.  "My mother's family wanted nothing to do with me, for they had disowned her for marrying my father and bearing, as they called me 'a demon spawn' child, and as for my father's parents, the priests were loathe to give me up to them, for though my father had not been evil, his parents surely were.  So I became a ward of the church, and spent the rest of my youth there. Perhaps the priests saw in me a potential, or perhaps they only wanted to begin a grand experiment, but they took care to raise me well, and nurture the growing love for goodness and justice that was within my soul.  I felt the call to become a paladin when I was but a boy yet, not even eighteen years of age, and the priests were quick to support me in my choice.  They were ever my champions when society sought to label me as a demon, and for that I am grateful.  When Bryseus and Hsanin arrived at the temple the priests urged me to travel with them, but I was hesitant, knowing that though the priests who raised me accepted me, Hsanin, a strange priest who had never met me, might not.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that Hsanin and Bryseus both welcomed me with open arms and open hearts.  They did look twice at me, at first, but I knew that it was merely surprise, and not revulsion, and I have to admit that I would react as they did, were I place in their shoes.  Redleaf too, quickly became my advocate and staunch friend, and I will ever feel grateful for that friendship, for it helped me overcome many trials while I was adjusting to the world outside of my relatively sheltered temple.  Particularly when we encountered the citizens of Uluvin, but that is Alysandyr's story, and thus I leave it to him to tell."

Alysandyr's Tale

            All eyes fell on the incredibly handsome bard who sat near Imoen, a contemplative look on his face.  "Though I am a bard, a storyteller and entertainer by trade, I always find it hard to tell tale more moving than yours, my friend," Alysandyr said to Ashram, "but I will try my best, and hope my own tale of woe will work half as much magic upon these kind people as yours."

            He closed his eyes and bent his head, causing his white-blonde hair to fall over his face and obscure his pained expression.  After a moment he raised his head again and looked up, his clear blue-green eyes filled with nostalgia and grief.  "My story and Ashram's, though different, are also much the same, as is our heritage," he said softly.  "I was born in Luskan to a tiefling mother who reviled her heritage, and so was thankful that I exhibited not outward signs of my fiendish blood.  My father was thankful too, for he had been ostracized for his association with my mother, and the shame of a son whose tiefling lineage was visible for all to see would have been too much for him.  That is not to say that he was kind to me, nor that he was kind to my mother.  He vacillated between loving us and hating us.  When he hated me he beat me to punish me for my tainted blood, when he loved me he apologized for the beatings.  

"When I was thirteen my father and mother both stopped loving me forever.  I showed signs of innate magical talents; signs of becoming a sorcerer, and so they put me on the street and disowned me.  I wandered the streets of Luskan alone for months, until a troupe of players, led by a bard, caught sight of me singing for coins on the street.  They saw that I had talent, though it was untrained, and took me into the fold.  They trained me as a singer and an actor, and helped develop both my sorcery and bardic talents, and I traveled with them for five years, using my new skills on stage before crowds of people.  Then I made a near-fatal error.  Feeling at home, loved and accepted, I told one of my fellow actors of my heritage, and though the group attempted to keep it quiet, word leaked to the public, and suddenly people stopped coming to see my performances.  The leader of the troupe came to me one night and told me that I had to leave, and so I packed up my belongings, and left with a heavy heart.

            "I traveled then to Uluvin, hoping to find a quiet home where I could settle down and forget my past.  For some time I lived in the tavern in Uluvin, and worked there at night, entertaining for a pittance, glad only that I had a place to live where my talents were appreciated and I was not hated.  I had learned my lesson with the troupe of actors; I kept my bloodline secret, and told no one, not even myself when I was alone for fear the wind would hear me and whisper the truth to all my new friends.  After a time, with the help of the local sheriff, who had become my fast friend, I gathered enough coins to build myself a modest home.  I became fond of the sheriff's daughter, Mirabella, and she of me. She often visited me, and came almost every night to hear me sing at the inn.  We were to be wed in the spring of this year, my twenty-third.  

"The night before our wedding I had an attack of conscience, and felt the need to tell her the truth of who I was.  The look of disgust in her eyes when I told her sent dagger of pain through my very soul.  She fled from me, and told her father what I had said, and he, the man who had been glad to call me son-in-law but moments before, rounded up the village guard and ousted me from my home.  They told me I was no longer welcome in their village, and so for the third time in my life I packed what I could carry, and set off on the road, my heart broken far worse than ever before.  It was on the road from Uluvin that I encountered four travelers, three of half-elven blood, and one tiefling like myself, with glowing eyes of red.  

"Bryseus approached me first and asked, 'You look down, what's the matter?'

''Tis a long, sad tale, my lady,' I replied, 'and not one I have the heart to tell.  The pain is too fresh in my soul.'

'Then come sit by our campfire,' said Hsanin.  'Eat with us, and rest.  We can wait to hear you story until it wants to be told.'

'I would probably not be welcome,' I said.  'I have been unwelcome everywhere I have arrived ere today.'

'Don't be such a dumb clod!' Redleaf told me.  'I have a bottle of wine here with your name on it.  Uh… what _is your name?'_

'Alysandyr Miron,' I told him, 'but it is inconsequential.  I have troubled you enough, I will be on my way.'

'Sit down,' said Ashram in a commanding voice as he rose from his seat on a rock.  'Have you not heard the entireties of my companions?  You are not troubling us friend, though we will not keep you if _our presence is troubling you.  At least put some warm food and good wine in you, like my friend Redleaf is offering, before you go.  The night is chill, and it will do you no good to wander alone on an empty stomach.'_

"At last their words won me over, and I sat and ate with them, thinking to be off as soon as I was finished, but I found them pleasant, and in my sorrow I longed for friendly voices to drown out the shouts of anger and hatred from the villagers that echoed in my head.  I stayed and fell asleep between Redleaf and Ashram, the wine and food warm in my belly, and feeling peaceful despite the circumstances of my flight from Uluvin.

Morning came upon us and so did ten men on horseback from Uluvin who had come down the road to see if I had really left.  They were angry to find me so close to the town and woke us all with angry shouts.

'What are you still doing here!' one of them demanded.

I sat up, stunned, and suddenly I found my new friends leaping to my defense.  Redleaf, who had woken with me complained, 'Hey now!  Can't a man get a good night's rest!  I've half a mind to wrap your butts in vines and set you on fire.  You're just lucky I wouldn't want to hurt the vines or horses like that!'

'Who are you?' another man asked roughly.

'Redleaf, a druid,' he replied grumpily.  'Who are you?'

'Aaron of Uluvin,' replied the man.  'And you'll thank me for waking you when I tell you that the man next to you is a tiefling!'

'Well, big whoop-die-do!' said Redleaf, still very grumpy.  'So is the man on the other side of him.  Hey, Ash, wake up you lazy bum!'

Redleaf's angry words had woken the others by then, and they were sleepily getting to their feet.

'What's all the noise about huh?' Bryseus asked.  'I need my beauty sleep!'

            The men were now talking amongst themselves, shocked to find that Ashram was indeed a tiefling like me.  'Another one of them?' they asked each other.  'The evil bastards are everywhere.'

            'Hey!' Bryseus said indignantly, 'pay attention to me! Who are you guys, and what evil bastards are you talking about?'

            'The two men in your midst that are of fiendish ancestry,' said the leader of the Uluvin men.  'Alysandyr Miron is the name of one, and we don't know the name of the other yet.'

            'You mean _Ashram?' Hsanin spoke now, incredulous, 'he's the farthest thing from evil!'_

            'He's a paladin!' Bryseus added, looking like she was going to laugh at the men for their folly.  'Listen, why don't you just ride home like good idiots, and we'll forget this happened.'

            The leader bristled at that.  'We told Alysandyr to leave Uluvin last night, and we're going to make sure he does! And your other friend isn't welcome either!'

            'A paladin of Lathander isn't welcome?' Hsanin asked.  'As one of Lathander's clergy myself I happen to know that my church is welcome everywhere in lands where men have good hearts.'

            'You're welcome, and any paladin of your church is, but tieflings aren't!'

            'Well then you've just contradicted yourself, friend, for Ashram Abyssguard, yon tall, dark-haired man, is both a tiefling and a paladin devoted to The Morninglord.'

            'Silvanus' green bread! Next thing their going to say is half-elves aren't welcome!' exclaimed Redleaf.  'I'd have to set my weasel on them for that! Why don't you bumpkins go back to where you came from?  This isn't Uluvin anyway, and I'd say Ally here wouldn't want to go back to your crappy little village if it were the last place on all of Toril with good booze!' he stuck his tongue out at them.  'Get out of here before I make your horses spook!'

            The men from Uluvin did not know what to do.  At last their leader said, 'Just so long as you stay away from our town we'll be happy!' and with that they rode off.

            Redleaf made a rude gesture at them as the left.  'You don't have to worry about that, you filth-wallowing goblin-kin!' he shouted after them.

            When the men were gone, Ashram said to his companions, 'Thank you. I knew not what to say to those men to vindicate myself, and though perhaps you might have been less abrasive, Redleaf, your enthusiasm is appreciated.'

            'And I thank you too,' I said, able to speak at last.  'Never has anyone not looked at me with hatred when they learned my heritage, and for your kindness I am in your debt.'

            'Stuff and nonsense,' said Bryseus.  'You're a good guy, I can tell.  Come on, let's get breakfast and get out of this rotten place.  Like Red said, we wouldn't want to go to Uluvin anymore anyway.'

            'Not for all the _sake in Kara-Tur,' Redleaf agreed._

            'I believe you mean, "tea,"' I said.

            Hsanin smiled and patted me on the back.  'He mean _sake, trust me.'_

            "So the five of us sat down to breakfast, the sun lighting up the landscape in lovely reds and gold before we set off to the west." Alysandyr sighed, stretched and grabbed Redleaf's wine bottle.  He poured himself a glass as he said, "Now I believe only one of our number remains with her tale untold, sweet Anna, would you care to enlighten our friends, or shall one of us do it for you?"

Anna's Tale

            Brynn looked to the last stranger, a petite human woman with long ebony hair and dark grey eyes.  She stood near the wall, leaning on her massive sword, which was fully one foot longer than she was tall, looking at Alysandyr with anything but a sweet expression.

            "I'd better tell it," said Anna Stormblade, "you guys would try to make it all dramatic like your own stories.  I'll tell everyone right now that my life history ain't dramatic at all.  I'm a pretty simple woman.  I like swords, armor and gold in that order, and everything else is pretty much secondary.  If I liked stones and gems as much I'd say I should've been born a dwarf.  Anyway, I think all that's 'cause I was raised by mercenaries, but maybe not.  You might also be wondering why I'm hauling around a fullblade; well it's not because my first kill was an ogre and I had to have his sword as a souvenir, or any dumb thing like that.  I'm not sentimental like that.  It's because they don't make toddler-sized longswords.  Well they do, but they're called _daggers, and when I was five I was damned if I'd use a pussy-weapon dagger to train with except to throw.  I've got a real strong sense of propriety.  Every other one of the Stormblade Mercenary Company used a longsword, so by Tempus, I wanted to too.  Problem was I got used to the weight and the balance of a sword that was bigger than I was, and I didn't feel much like changing as I grew.  I just made sure my sword grew with me.  So now I've got a fullblade, and it don't take an ogre to wield one, or a hulking brute of a half-orc, just strong arms.  Plus it makes people respect you more.  People respect twenty-three pounds of steel even if a shrimp like me is wielding it.  I really don't fit in well with this touchy-feely bunch of people, but really, aside from all the touchy-feely-ness me and Bryseus sort of think alike.  Red and I both like ale.  Ashram and I both like to kill evil things.  Lathander's a good god, so far as I'm concerned, though He ain't mine, but Hsanin don't try to convert me or any stupid thing like that, so we get along just great.  And Alysandyr, well sun and moon, look at him! He's a damn fine piece of man, he's got a great voice, a good personality, even if he is a little mopey about that dumb fiancée of his yet, any red blooded woman would want to have little demon children with him any day of the week, and I'm no exception.  I'm just worried that that Uluvin bitch turned him into one of those men that likes men.  It's usually the real good-looking, thoughtful ones that are like that, and bards are notorious for walking both sides of the street, if you know what I mean.  There was a mage with the Stormblades, the merc company who raised me –hence the name…"_

            "Wait," Imoen cut it, "You mean you were raised by _the Stormblade Mercenary Company?  The one that…"_

            "…Got wiped out by a hoard of barbarians coming off The Ride six months back?" Anna finished for her.  "Yeah, that's the one."

            "I heard that every last member was killed.  How did you make it out alive?"

            "It's a real embarrassing story, but I trust you people not to tell the world.  You're the sort that respects twenty-three pounds of steel, and even if I couldn't take you while you're awake, you got to sleep sometime."  She gave them a very mercenary smile.  "Like I said, the story of my life ain't dramatic.  I was knocked out cold halfway through the battle and was left for dead by the barbarians.  I woke up in the middle of my dead comrades, the only living thing for miles except the vultures.  I looked around a little, cried my tears, picked up my sword and headed off.  That's all there is to it." She stood away from the wall and balanced her sword over her shoulder with lazy grace.  "Now if you don't mind all this chatter is giving me a headache, so I'm going to get something less girly to drink and then I'm going to bed.  Alysandyr, you're welcome to join me. My headache ain't _that bad.  And as the guys always used to tell me, 'a good tumble makes everything feel better.'"  With that, she walked out the door and down the stairs, leaving the Blades to ponder and Alysandyr to blush._

            "Is she always that… ah… b-b-blunt?" Khalid asked.

            "About the less socially appropriate aspects of life, yes," Hsanin answered.  "But don't let her fool you; she's good at hiding her emotions."

            "We found her while she was 'crying her tears' after that battle six months ago," Bryseus said.  "We were there helping the people keep the hoard back.  We won the battle, but there were heavy casualties on both sides, barbarian, regular army and mercenary.  The five of us volunteered to go out and look for survivors, and we found Anna all but incoherent, collapsed in the middle of the hacked up bodies of her friends.  Lendel Stormblade, the man who raised her, he was lying across her lap and she was trying to get him to wake up.  She either didn't notice, or didn't _want to notice that his head had been split open by an axe or something.  Poor girl was covered in blood and gore.  Hsanin picked her up and I carried that behemoth sword of hers, and we went back to the camp.  Between the three of them, Ashram, Redleaf and Alysandyr have been trying to help her through her grief, but she's been very distant about it.  Every time she talks about it she gets like she was just now, and then she walks off, complaining of a headache or something."_

            "She was raised by mercenaries.  It's not exactly acceptable to cry in front of people in that sort of environment," Nalia commented.

            "Which is why we're trying to get her to understand that she _can cry and feel grief for her friends," Hsanin said._

            "I would suggest you allow her get through this on her own," Jaheira said curtly.

            "Tried it," Redleaf told her.  "First fight we got into with her with us was against some goblins that had the bad taste to ambush us while I was having my happy hour after we'd set up camp.  She went into this crazy berserker fit and we had to _sit on her until she was right in the head again.  I tell you she's loopy from it all.  I've pretty much given her up for Ally to deal with.  She likes him best anyway."_

            "A berserker?" Minsc asked.  "Oh! Did you hear that Boo? We have little a student!"

            Aerie and Dynaheir let out a sigh of exasperation at the same time.

            "I guess I can sort of understand it a little," said Bryseus.  "The fight against the barbarian hoard was her first real battle, and it would be pretty traumatic to wake up and find everyone you knew dead."

            "It was her first battle?" Brynn asked.  "How old is she?"

            "Sixteen," Bryseus answered.

            Yoshimo raised an eyebrow.  "She does not look it," he said.  "I would have guessed that she was twenty at the least."

            "She's pretty grown up for her age," Bryseus said.  "Again, I think it can be blamed on her being raised by mercenaries."

            "You can blame just about anything on mercenaries," Redleaf commented.  He put his feet up on the table, knocking off some of the caked on mud.  "But enough of this depressing stuff.  Bry, go on and tell the nice folks why we're here, huh?"

            Bryseus sighed.  "I suppose I ought to get to that part of it now."  She took a sip of her ale to wet her throat and said, "Some friends of ours, another company we met after the battle where we picked up Anna, went after the dragon Balagos and never came back."

            "I do not find that at all surprising," Anomen remarked dryly.  "Balagos has been the bane of caravans and adventurers in this region for centuries."

            "Right," Hsanin agreed.  "We urged them not to go, but their leader, Lesley Surefoot, a halfling warrior, seemed convinced that he had the perfect plan to defeat the dragon and capture his treasure."

            "We've been hoping that Lesley and his men just didn't come back because they found something else to do," Bryseus continued, "but that's looking less and less likely every day that goes by.  Before he and his men left, Lesley requested that we at least find out exactly what happened to them if they didn't come back, if not avenge them.  We agreed, thinking that they would change their minds before they got to the dragon's lair and do the sensible thing and head home."

            "Actually, Bryseus agreed without consulting the rest of us," Alysandyr corrected.  "Though, in her credit, the rest of us would probably have done as she did."

"I honestly thought they would turn around," Bryseus said.

"Apparently, they didn't," Ashram remarked dryly.

            "Apparently," Brynn agreed.  "So what do you guys intend to do? You can't go after Balagos just the six of you.  It would be suicide."

            "I know.  We were thinking of trying to retrace Lesley's footsteps until he got to the dragon lair, and then see what could be done from there, but…" Bryseus shrugged.  "Well, I'm not sure if even _that's feasible.  I'm really beginning to regret agreeing to Lesley's request."_

            "So, what brings you to the Copper then?  If it was to ask for advice I'd be glad to give it," Brynn told them.  She looked Bryseus in the eyes and said firmly, "Don't go after Balagos."

            "No, it wasn't for that," Bryseus said, "I just wanted to see this place, and maybe meet you and the Blades.  You guys are heroes after all, I sort of look up to you."

            "I see." It was far from the first time that the Blades had encountered hero-worshippers flocking to their doorstep and begging for help, wisdom, or just to gawk a little, but rarely did such attention come from normal –well, mostly normal- people like Bryseus and her companions.  "That's all?"

            Ashram nodded.  "Aye, my Lady, 'tis all we came for.  It was more Bryseus' choice than mine or any of the others', but she has a mighty will, our lady of the swords, and we were loath to deny her pilgrimage."

            "Boy, you should've heard her on the way here," Redleaf chuckled.  "'We've got to see the Blades, we've got to see the Blades!' On and on and on."

            Turning bright crimson, Bryseus said, "Yeah, so, anyway, we're in something of a dilemma.  We can't fail to live up to our promise to Lesley and the guys, but then again we'd also like to live to see the next year."

            Brynn nodded.  "I understand.  Listen, why don't you and your friends get settled in, and we'll see if we can't think of something to do to help you out, okay?"

            "We really don't want to intrude any more than we already have," Hsanin told her.  "I'm sure you have better things to be doing than helping us."

            "Don't be so sure," Imoen cautioned him.

            "Well… if you really want to…" Bryseus said uncertainly.

            "Yeah, we'll see what we can come up with.  Get back to us in the morning about it."

            Taking that as their cue to get out, Bryseus, Ashram, Hsanin, Redleaf and Alysandyr joined Anna down at the bar to pay for their rooms and then retired for the night.

            The Blades, however, stayed up a little later.

            "Anyone up for dragon slaying?" Brynn asked, grinning.

            "Just a moment, Brynn," Jaheira cut in before anyone could answer, "think this through for a moment.  We cannot get wrapped up in every plot and adventure in the region."

            "We're not wrapped up in _any plots right now!" Brynn argued._

            "I believe, love, that that is Jaheira's point," Yoshimo said.  "We may need to hang up our swords for a time.  Only the undead do not rest."

            Minsc stretched his mighty arms and said, "I am never too tired to slay evil dragons."

            "Nevertheless," Jaheira said, "some of us are."

            "Well, not all of us have to go," Brynn pointed out.  "I could take a small group and between us and those new guys we'd have little trouble."

            "I would throw my hat in to the ring," Haer'Dalis said.  "Ne'er have I been bored for want of danger, and ne'er shall I be if I continue in your company, my raven."

            "Well, we've got a spellcaster of sorts then, and me, any one else want to go along?" Brynn asked.

            "I will go, my lady," Anomen said.  "I dare say my magic and skill in battle will be needed on this quest."

            Haer'Dalis muttered under his breath, "What skill in battle?" earning a dark glance from Anomen and a sharp kick in the ankle from Brynn.

            Nalia smiled apologetically to Brynn and said, "I've got things to be doing here, and I need a break, otherwise I'd be all for going with you."

            Brynn gave her an understanding look.  "Don't feel bad about it," she told the young mage.

            "I'd like to g-go," Khalid spoke up.  That earned strange looks from the rest of the Blades, and feeling the need to explain himself Khalid said, "I don't want to fight so m-much as I'm c-curious about these strangers.  Especially the paladin."

            "I am staying," Jaheira said.  "No doubt the grove is in need of some sort of assistance.  And I will not travel with that foul-mannered idiot that _claims he is a druid." She added several unpleasant things about Redleaf under her breath before crossing her arms over her chest and regarding the whole group with angry eyes, as if she were daring any one of them to argue with her._

            "All right," Brynn said simply.  "Aerie, I take it you want to stay here and catch up with your uncle and the others?"

            Aerie nodded.  "I would.  If you don't mind, that is," she replied shyly.

            "Not at all," Brynn assured her.  
            Minsc looked absolutely forlorn.  "But… but… without my witch I can't go slay the dragon!"

            "Ease thy mind, Minsc, I will be going with Brynn as well.  Thou will join me," Dynaheir said.  "Aerie can take care of herself while we are away.  Is that not correct, young one?"

            "That's right!" Aerie chirped.  "Go have fun Minsc."

            Minsc beamed.

            "I'm going too, sis," Imoen put in.  "I'm not going to say it's going to be fun all the time, but it'll at least be something to do.  Besides, a dragon's hoard is nothing to turn your nose up at.  He'll probably have a lot of magical items, not to mention more gold and gems than we can carry."

            "Imoen, since when have you been so greedy?" Brynn asked jokingly.

            "Since I could walk," Imoen replied.  "I just also happen to have a soft heart, and that interferes with my accumulation of wealth."

            "Yoshimo?" Brynn inquired, smiling at her beloved bounty hunter.

            "Of course I intend to go," Yoshimo told her.  "Someone has to pull your butt out of the fire."

            "Of course," Brynn echoed.  "So I guess that's all settled then.  I'll tell our new friends the decision tomorrow, and we'll make plans from there."

            Everyone agreed on that, and at last the Blades retired to their respective rooms to get a good night's sleep.

To Be Continued

________________________________________________________________________

Author's Notes:

            Yes, Khalid is going somewhere without Jaheira.

The Blue Sorceress


	3. chapter 3

Chapter 3

            Brynn woke early and went down the common room to enjoy a cup of coffee.  It was still raining outside, and the air was thick, wet and cold, but the warm coals that remained of the fire from the night before still glowed warmly in the center of the room.  She pulled a chair up next to the fire pit and cupped her steaming mug of coffee in her hands.  

            Bernard was shuffling about, cleaning up the bar, and a number of serving women were wiping down the tables and chairs.  One had a bucket and was cleaning the mud and stick remains of spilled drinks off of the floor.

            "How're things going, Bernard?" Brynn asked, sipping at her coffee.

            "Eh, the usual," the large man replied.  "There's always something to be done around this place.  Never have a moment to myself excepting when I'm asleep."

            The door to the back half of the Copper, which had once been a gladiator pit and cells, but was now a number of extra rooms, opened and yawning, Bryseus emerged.  "Good morning," she said, approaching Brynn and pulling up a chair for herself.  "Sleep well?"

            "Mm," Brynn confirmed.  "You?"

            "Yeah."

            "Where's everyone else?"

            "Hsanin and Ashram are praying," Bryseus said, "but I don't know about the rest.  I imagine Anna's asleep yet, same with Alysandyr, and Red's probably curing himself of his post-binge sickness right now.  He's a master with hangover remedies.  I suppose it's from necessity."

            Brynn chuckled.  "Quite a character isn't he?"

            "Don't let him fool you," Bryseus cautioned.  "He's sharp as knives, though he never acts like it.  He plays the fool, but that's all he's doing: playing."

            "I figured as much.  What about Anna? Is she playing too, or is she really how she seems."

            "Nothing's ever how it seems," Bryseus said, "but I'm sure you knew that already.  No, I don't think Anna's playing, not by choice anyway.  I think there are things she doesn't want to think about, so she locks them away.  She puts how she feels right up there on the surface though.  No matter how much she jokes about it, I think she really is fond of Alysandyr."

            "I know how that is," Brynn said softly.  "There are things in my past… I prefer to lock them away too."

            Bryseus nodded.  "Sometimes I wonder if I've done the same thing, and that's why my past is so blank to me.  It must have been something horrible, if I've blocked it out completely.  I'd rather think I just hit my head on something and forgot."

            "Mm,"   Brynn murmured.  "Another question, do you get the sense that Ashram and Alysandyr are bitter about what they've endured?  I thought I heard that in their voices last night, but I'll admit I was a little muddled from drink."

            "Ashram is, though he tried very hard not to be.  Every time someone looks at his eyes and shrinks back it hurts him terribly, I think.  He fights that though, because there's no room for self-pity and bitterness in a paladin's heart.  I think that he fights little battles with the evil within himself everyday."

            "No one ever said being a paragon of law and goodness was easy, or that there weren't any temptations," Brynn agreed.  "Paladins feel the same base urges as the rest of us, they just fight them better.  I don't think a lot of people give them the credit they deserve for it.  But what about Alysandyr?"

            Bryseus frowned thoughtfully.  "Ally's not bitter so much as sad and wary.  Every time something good has happened to him it's gone awry, and it's like he's just waiting for it to happen again."

            "I see.  And what about Hsanin?  What's under the surface there?  He seems pretty straightforward to me."

            "Heh," Bryseus laughed.  "Hsanin's straightforward all right.  He's got his little fears though, same as the rest of us.  He's overprotective of me; then again, I'm the same way about him.  I think he thinks he's going to end up like his parents and grandparents, dead or vanished.  We never much talk about it though, he's boxed that portion of his life up quite nicely and he's tried to move on."

            "What about you then?  What's beneath your exterior?"

            Bryseus was quiet for sometime.  "I don't really know," she said at last.  "It's harder to see your own heart than the hearts of others.  I can't be objective, really.  I guess I'd say I try very hard to be on the outside what I am on the inside.  That is, a person who wants to see the world become a place where no one has to hurt or fear, but who also knows that something like that is impossible, and beyond my ability to create."

            Brynn though about that for a while.  "If you had the power though, would you do it?"

            Bryseus shook her head slowly, her brow furrowed.  "No, I wouldn't," she said.  "I'd like to, but I wouldn't.  I know that my perfect vision of the world would be the same vision that anyone else has.  It'd be the worst kind of tyranny to impose my will on others, even for their own good." At that Brynn nodded in agreement, and seeing that, Bryseus pursued her thought further.  "Besides which, I've come to think that good can't be comprehended unless there is evil in the world.  If I wiped out all evil, how would anyone be able to know what evil truly is, and how could they choose to avoid it?  There would be no way to tell, and who knows, without that knowledge we might slip toward evil without ever really realizing it."

            "Good," Brynn said.  "Very good.  I'm sure now of the choice I've made."

            "Which is?"

            "We'll help you and your friends out, Bryseus de Rowan.  You've proven wiser than I thought, though admittedly, I'm no fountain of wisdom myself."

            "So all those questions were some kind of test that helped you decide what to do?" Bryseus asked.

            "Well, no," Brynn answered.  "I made my decision last night, but I just wanted to make sure I'd made the right choice.  As I said, I was a little muddled when it came time to make a choice.  Plus I wanted to get to know you better."

            Bryseus smiled.  "Red told me once that he makes all of his decisions twice.  Once when he's drunk, and then again in the morning when he's sober.  That way he doesn't unconsciously restrict his way of thinking and weeds out the silly ideas before something bad happens."

            "I get the feeling that that sort of logic is typical Redleaf."

            "What is?" Redleaf asked curiously, emerging from the same door Bryseus had come from.  His red hair was neatly combed and pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and his green eyes were merry and alert.

            "I was telling Brynn about how you make decisions," Bryseus explained.

            "Ah," said Redleaf.  "I assume you see the inherent wisdom and wish to copy me?"  He grin a crooked little grin.  "Don't both of you bow down at once, though, it'll send my ego sky high."

            Brynn smiled.  "Could it get any higher?"

            "Oh!" Redleaf said dramatically, clutching at his heart, "you've skewered me, madam!"  He stumbled about for a moment, as if in death throes, and then sprawled over one of the tables a particularly pretty serving maid was trying to wipe down.

            "Well!" the girl exclaimed, uncertain as to what to do.  "What's wrong with you?"

            "I lie near death, but I think a kiss from a beauteous maiden might save me," Redleaf replied.  "Lay one on me, sweetheart." He puckered his lips expectantly.

            The girl just laughed and slapped his shoulder lightly.  "Oh, you're a laugh! Now go die elsewhere, I've cleaning to do."

            Redleaf rolled onto the ground, catching himself expertly.  "Oh! I'm doubly slain! Cruel maiden, you've sealed my fate!"

            "'ere now, get up off the floor, you great fool," Bernard ordered roughly.  "And mind you leave the serving girls be, or else I'll have at you meself."

            Redleaf sat up.  "The lady knows I was joking, right, honey?"

            The serving girl laughed again and continued her work without any other reply.  Sighing loudly, Redleaf got up off the floor and pulled up a chair near Brynn and Bryseus.  "That's the response I always get from the fairer sex.  They think they're laughing with me, but what they can't get is that _I'm not laughing."  He shook his head sadly.  "I don't understand why Ally-boy doesn't use __his charms to woo the ladies.  If I was as handsome as him, you'd bet I would.  No doubt I'd be more successful too."_

            "I don't think Alysandyr is as much of a playboy as you are, Red," Bryseus said.  "He's got what we civilized folks like to call manners."

            "Thrice murdered by the cruel barbs of women!" Redleaf exclaimed in an injured voice.  "Not only am I a laughable egotist, but now I've got no manners too!  Pardon me, but I'm going to throw myself out a window now before you can come up with any worse jabs."  He stood and made for the stairs.

            "Oh, sit down, Redleaf, please?" Brynn appealed to him.  "We didn't mean it.  Sit down and I'll have Bernard get you a cup of coffee too, all right?"

            "Well, all right," Redleaf replied, feigning reluctance, "but skip the coffee, I'm fine without it."  He sat again and squinted against the warmth of the coals.

            "Bryseus was just telling me about your hangover remedies," Brynn said conversationally.

            "Oh? How's your head this morning?"

            "Fine, but sometime…" Brynn smiled ruefully, "… Sometimes I do over do it a little."

            "Be careful, you'll pop all of Bry's little delusions about you if you're not careful," Redleaf warned.  "All the way here she was talking about you like you never did anything remotely naughty.  Evidence otherwise might send her into fits."

            "Red! That's not true and you know it!" Bryseus growled, her cheeks darkening with a blush.

            "Lady Trueblade, I assure you that I'm not fibbing," Redleaf said to Brynn.  "Don't pay her any mind; she worships the ground you walk on."

            Bryseus fumed.  "_I'm going to throw myself out a window now, I'm so embarrassed," she muttered.  "Better yet, I'll throw __you out, Red."_

            Redleaf grinned jauntily.  "Sure you will, Bry.  Hey, Hsanin and that squirrel Ashram still bowing and scraping?  I'd've expected them out here by now, what with them being early risers and all."

            "Squirrel?" Brynn inquired.  "I've never heard a paladin called a squirrel before."

            "Oh, there's something squirrelly about that guy," Redleaf assured her.  "Thorple says so.  Hey! I never showed you my weasel like I promised!"

            "That's okay," Brynn said quickly.

            "Nah, a promise is a promise, much to my dad's dismay," Redleaf said.  He got up and headed for the door to the back rooms.  "I'll be back quicker than you can say 'fire blight.'"

            "He _is just bringing a weasel right?" Brynn asked Bryseus nervously.  "I can't quite tell yet when he's joking and when he's serious."_

            Bryseus shrugged.  "It _is hard to tell.  I think he's really bringing Thorple though, but just in case, be prepared to shield you eyes."_

            Soon Redleaf came back, a long creature with shiny, mottled-brown fur curled around his neck like a scarf.  Two beady black eyes peered out behind a small, pink nose and long lustrous whiskers.  "Meet Thorple," Redleaf said, sitting down and unwrapping the weasel from around his neck.  He held Thorple out, gripping him below around the middle.  Thorple wiggled his nose a little, his short little legs dangling in the air, but he didn't seem to mind.  "Here," Redleaf said, setting the weasel in Brynn's lap, "you can hold him.  He likes women almost as much as I do."

            Brynn recoiled briefly, but then calmed down as Thorple curled up in her lap, his head on his front paws, and fell promptly asleep."

            "Lazy little bastard," Redleaf said, giving his weasel an affectionate look. "He likes to sleep in almost as late as Anna."

            "Is Anna not an early riser?" Brynn inquired.

            "Nope," Redleaf said.  "She seems to think that the day begins at noon." 

            The sound of two sets of footsteps approaching heralded the arrival of Hsanin and Ashram.  The two of them quickly came and sat down with the others.  Hsanin requested a cup of coffee and Ashram a cup of hot tea from one of the serving girls, and when their beverages arrived they settled into their chairs contentedly.

            "Lovely morning, isn't it?" Hsanin asked, smiling peacefully as he sipped his coffee.

            "Hsanin, you delusion bastard, have you even _looked outside this morning?" Redleaf demanded._

            "It's raining cats and dogs," Brynn agreed.

            "Screw that, it's raining lions and _dire wolves," Redleaf said emphatically.  "If this is a lovely morning I'll shave my weasel."_

            In Brynn's lap, Thorple perked his ears up and chattered irritably.

            "Every morning is lovely because it brings the renewal of the daylight hours," Hsanin said.

            "Indeed," agreed Ashram.  He savored a sip of his tea and added, "So says the Morninglord."

            "Great green groves! You two are… are…" Redleaf slumped into his chair, unable to find words to express what he thought Hsanin and Ashram were.  "You're just crazy," he mumbled.  "Clerics and paladins! Nuttier than a chipmunk's cheeks in autumn!"

            "Who is? What're you bastards talking about?"  That was Anna. She stretched and yawned, then scratched under her breasts and took a seat near the others.  Brynn noticed that she had her sword with her, though she was wearing only a pair of socks and a long cotton tunic.

            "Anna, must you take that thing with you where ever you go?" Ashram asked.  "And please put some pants on," he added when Anna propped her legs up on one of the tables. Her tunic scrunched up and revealed a risqué amount of leg.

            "What for? Ain't nothing no one here ain't seen before.  'Sides, my legs ain't nothing to be ashamed of.  That and my pants need washing before I wear 'em again.  To answer your other question, you never know when some dumb ass is going to try and take you in a fight.  Carrying a weapon just keeps 'em from succeeding."

            "Well that's a practical point of view if I ever heard one," Brynn said.  "What do you do when you want to go somewhere and you aren't allowed to take your sword?"

            Anna said, "I don't go.  I don't want to be somewhere my sword ain't allowed."  She looked around.  "Where's Alysandyr?  He's usually up by now."

            "Last I knew he was in bed, sleeping," said Redleaf.

            "Want me to go get him?"

            Brynn said, "If you would.  I've got some things I need to address to your whole group and since most of you are up and about we might as well start now."

            Anna nodded.  "Sure thing," she said, and then she swung her feet off of the table, stood up, and went back to fetch the bard.

            Brynn heard Redleaf stifle a laugh, and so she turned to look at him.  "What?" she asked.

            "Nothing," Redleaf said, grinning madly.  "Nothing at all."

            "Nothing my ass," Bryseus growled.  "Red, what do you know that we don't?"

            "Well…"

            "I believe I know," said Ashram grimly.  "Alysandyr's clothes and pack were wet from yesterday's rain, thus he slept… how shall I put this…"

            "Naked as a baby bird!" Redleaf burst out.  "He's naked, and knowing Anna she's going to pull the covers right of his pale arse!"

            "Indeed," Ashram agreed.  "Perhaps we ought to…"

            There was a shout from the back rooms, and then an exclamation from Anna that carried all the way out into the common room, "Gods above us!  I'm going to have to wake_ you up more often!"_

            "Too late," Hsanin sighed.  "Poor Alysandyr."

            Brynn giggled, earning her a strange look from Bryseus.  Perhaps Bryseus hadn't expected a hero to giggle.  Guffaw, maybe, but not giggle.

            Eventually Alysandyr and Anna joined the others by the fire.  Alysandyr's face was as red as the coals, and Anna looked distinctly pleased.

            "If I ever see as fine an ass again I'll eat my sword," she said, smiling.

            Thought Brynn hadn't thought it possible, Alysandyr blushed harder.  "Might we forget about this whole incident?"

            "I won't talk about it," said Anna, "but I'll _die before I forget it."_

            Alysandyr sighed resignedly.  "I suppose that is the best I can hope for," he said.

            Brynn said, "All right, enough of Alysandyr's assets.  We've business to discuss." When she had everyone's attention she continued, "Last night the Blades and I discussed how we might help you out, and came to the decision that some of us would accompany you on your expedition.  You get the benefit of our battle prowess, our equipment, and most importantly, our dragon-slaying experience.  That is, if you want us to come along."

            Hsanin nodded his assent.

"Do we ever!" Bryseus said exuberantly.

            "Yes, your assistance would be most welcome," Ashram said.

            "So long as you don't drink more'n your fair share of the beer, you're welcome," Redleaf agreed.

            "Eh, more hands make the work easier," said Anna.

            "Indeed they do, and I have a feeling that we will need all the help we can get," Alysandyr added.  His cheeks were still bright red.

            "Great," Brynn exclaimed.  "Let's adjourn to the war room then and discuss it in more detail.  Oh! But first I have presents for you! Come on!"  Excitedly she stood and headed up the stairs, Bryseus and company following after her feeling a little perplexed.  What sort of presents could Brynn have in mind?

            Most of the Blades were already seated inside their headquarters relaxing and talking.  The sole exception was Jaheira, who had stubbornly decided to remain in the room she and Khalid shared in order to avoid Redleaf.  Brynn shook her head inwardly, but though she wanted to she was not about to try and convince Jaheira to give the eccentric druid a second chance.  She knew better than to think that would work.  Either Jaheira would change her mind in time or she wouldn't.  

            On the table in the center of the room were four ordinary-looking cloth sacks, each about the same size.  Brynn ushered her guests over to the table and said, "So  last night I spent some time thinking, after the whole group had broken up to get some sleep, that really, we ought to share and share alike since all of us are going to be working together, and I hit on an idea."  She opened one of the cloth sacks and thrust her arm into it all the way up to her shoulder, though that seemed impossible from the dimensions of the sack, and withdrew first one longsword, and then another.  The first sword bore a beautifully adorned red hilt and the second a huge blue gem.  "Bryseus, unless I miss my guess you like to dual-wield longswords?"

            Bryseus nodded, wondering what Brynn had in mind.  She had an idea, but it seemed far too unlikely.  "I do," she said.

            "Well, then these are for you, on loan until the end of the mission, at which point I may or may not decide to let you keep them.  The red-hued sword is the Blade of the Roses.  It may just seem pretty, but there are powerful magical enchantments on it, making it a worthy addition to just about any well-stocked arsenal.  The second blade is one we found all the pieces to during our various and sundry travels and then had Cromwell the Dwarf re-forge it.  It's called Equalizer.  I think it was made by a devotee of some neutral god or another, but regardless it causes extreme death to all things very good and very evil.  The closer your opponent comes to being completely neutral the less harm it does.  I'm pretty sure that old Balagos is evil, so use it in good health." One by one she handed the swords to Bryseus.

            "I don't know what to say," Bryseus said softly, taking the swords with reverent hands.  "Thank you."

            "Don't mention it.  The point is for us all to be as well-prepared as possible, that way there's less death and pain on our side, and more on Balagos'."  Brynn dug her hand back into the back and fished around for a moment.  "Mm, not in there… Maybe the other one…" she went through two more of the bags before she found the item she was looking for in the fourth.  She retrieved a pair of scimitars, and said, "These are for you, Redleaf.  The first blade is Belm, and the second is unnamed, but is enchanted with powerful magic. I figure you might be able to figure out something to call it.  Lefty maybe, or righty, depending on which hand you use it in.  You do dual-wield too, right?"

            "I trained with rangers for a while," said Redleaf, taking the blades with a grin, "That's one of the first lessons.  The way they figure it, if you got an extra hand, and you're not a klutz, you might as well use it to do something other than hold a big bulky shield."

            "Wonderful," Brynn said.  "I'm glad.  Um, next, if I can remember where I put it, I have a lovely present for you, Hsanin…"

            "No need, lady Trueblade," Hsanin said.  "I thank you for the thought, but the weapon that served my father will serve me as well.  Dawnbringer has never failed me yet, and tales tell of my father laying waste to the evil armies of the Legion of the Chimera without so much as breaking a sweat.  Though I doubt those tales have not been exaggerated by his friends, I have felt Dawnbringer's power, and I trust that it will be enough."

            "Okay, fine by me," Brynn assured him.  "I know the extreme end of attachment to weaponry, so I understand how you feel." She dug into one of the bags and drew out a finely crafted rapier.  "This," she said with a crooked smile, "is York."

            "York?" Inquired Alysandyr, suspecting that, since he was the only one likely to use a rapier, the weapon was meant for him.  "What an odd name."

            "It belonged, as I remember, to an even odder bard, a woman by the name of Liera Denre, who through some strange circumstances ended up owing a large sum to a merchant and was forced to sell him her sword.  We were browsing in the merchant's shop when we heard her and the shop owner start to argue.  Denre stormed out in a huff, and feeling sorry for her, I convinced the shop owner to trade me the rapier for a few gems we were intending to sell, and then we tracked Denre down.  I presented her with the sword, and she said 'thank you,' and then promptly vanished.  We tried to find her for weeks, but to no avail.  So, if you don't mind the fact that York's previous owner might come looking for it, you may have it."

            "Thank you, my lady," said Alysandyr.

            Brynn handed him the rapier.  "No thanks necessary.  My only request is that is Denre does come looking for her sword you give it back to her."

            "As you wish."

            "Wonderful.  Now then, that leaves the two of you," she said, looking between Anna and Ashram.  "I thought long and hard about what to give you two, since I haven't got any weapons appropriate for either of you.  Unless I was mistaken last night I believe that you, Ashram wield a falchion?"  Ashram nodded.  "And, Anna, of course, has her fullblade, which I've had magical versions of, but then promptly sold because none of us even stood a chance at using one.  So, for you two I have something maybe as good." She reached into one of the bags again and pulled out first an entire suit of plate mail made from the scales of red dragon, and then a second suit made from the scales of a shadow dragon.  "These scales match the heads above the door, and we had them made by Cromwell the Dwarf.  Since we acquired these suits those of us who used them have gotten better armor, but they're still better than regular plate mail by a long shot.  A really long shot.  The shadow dragon scale will fit Anna, and I believe the red dragon scale will with Ashram.  If not I can do some more digging and come up with something better."

            "You are most gracious, my lady," Ashram said, accepting the armor with a bow.

            "Yeah, thanks," Anna added.  "If you ever find any more of those enchanted fullblades, you'll know where to send 'em."

            "I sure will," agreed Brynn.  "Now, let's get down to the other half of our business, shall we? Did you guys have any specific plans already?"

            "We intended to follow the most likely path that Lesley and his company would have taken, and track them as far as we could," Hsanin explained.  "As far as what to do after that… well, we planned to cross that bridge when we came to it.  Any advice you might have would help."

            "I was thinking of stopping at Nalia's keep, since it's a week or more worth of travel from here to Balagos' lair," Brynn told them.  "From there we could go on foot, or borrow some horses from the keep stables and ride."

            "Riding would be faster," Anomen pointed out.

            "Really?" Haer'Dalis inquired sarcastically.

            "Hush, you," Brynn scolded him.  "Anyhow, that was the plan I came up with."

            Anna complained, "What? Don't you got magic or something that could take us there quicker? You're the bloody Blades of Honor after all.  Saved the Sword Coast and all that.  You gotta have a spell or two up your sleeves."

            "Anna!" Ashram hissed, "Watch you mouth! We are guests after all."

            "What? Guests can't speak sense?  Why don't ya pull that big stick out of your arse for a minute and look at this from the eyes of some one who ain't a paladin.  No sense in being so polite that you make dumb plans."

            Ashram's cheeks turned nearly as red as his eyes, whether from embarrassment or anger Brynn could not tell, as he struggled to find something to say.

            Imoen saved him the trouble.  "Listen, kiddo," she said in the sternest voice she could muster, which wasn't much, considering she was more or less a child at heart herself, "We would pull out all the magical stops, so to speak, if it weren't for the fact that magic of the sort you're talking about is one, expensive, and two, not always as reliable, especially if you're going somewhere you've never been before.  Best spell I can think of that'd do what you want is _teleportation circle, which requires one thousand gold worth of amber dust, and reasonably good description of the place you want to get to.  Now, I haven't been anywhere near Balagos' lair myself, and neither have you or any of your friends, which means that the spell might or might not work, and despite the fact that we've more gold than we know what to do with sometimes none of us fancy wasting a thousand on a spell that didn't work.  Get what I'm trying to say?"_

            Anna, pale as newly fallen snow, nodded slowly.

            "What's more is, I'd take your friend's advice and watch your yap.   Not everyone's going to be as nice as me and Brynn and the rest, so a little _tact can go a long way toward making sure your head stays on your shoulders."_

            "Uh… yeah," said Brynn after a moment of utter silence, "that about covers it."

            "I suppose it does," Imoen agreed, turning a bit red.  She sat back in her chair and composed herself.  "Hey, no hard feelings? Right?"  She smiled in Anna's direction.  "I guess Brynn's morning grumpies have finally worn off on me."

Anna said nothing, only made a very slight noise that sounded something like an affirmative whimper.

            "So…" Bryseus said, drawing the word out to catch attention, "Brynn's plan sounds fine to me.  As for riding, I'd prefer that to walking myself, but I don't speak for everyone."

            "I have my own mount," Ashram said, "and I too would prefer to ride."

            "All right then," Brynn said, "anyone not want to ride?"  No one spoke up.  "So then, our plan is to go to the keep, get horses, and ride the rest of the way to Balagos' lair and see if we can't find any signs of the halfling and his companions along the way.  Fair enough?"

            The general consensus was that it was indeed fair enough.  Aside from those not going, Anna was the only one not to voice her opinion on the matter.  

            "Excellent, then, unless there are any serious objections, I say we wait until tomorrow and get a good start in the morning.  Maybe the rain will have let up by then."

            Once more, there were no objections, and the meeting more or less broke up.  Most everyone went their own way, either back to their room to study spells, in the case of Imoen, or brood over poetry, in Alysandyr's case, or to various other parts of the Copper and other locales within the city to take care of personal business.  Nalia and Anomen adjourned to their own private room to discuss the sad business of their imminent separation; nobody bothered them, not wanting to interrupt and serious conversation, or serious canoodling for that matter.  Aerie and Dynaheir discussed what was slowly but surely becoming their most frequent topic of conversation, the care and management of one's ranger-berserker protector.  Meanwhile Minsc consulted Boo on the trouble to be faced watching over not one witch but_ two, and the extra trouble that occurred when both witches were not going to be in the same general place at once.  What Boo's advice was only Minsc knew, but it apparently set the huge ranger's mind at ease about the matter._

            Brynn remained in the main room of her headquarters along with Yoshimo, Bryseus, Hsanin and Ashram, enjoying some friendly conversation.

            "I'm sorry about the way Anna spoke to you," Bryseus said.  "We've really got to stop letting her have her own way so much."

            "It's okay, she's just kid," Brynn replied.

            "A foul mouthed one," Yoshimo commented. "I wish I could have gotten away with such insolence with only a tongue lashing when I was a boy.  Imoen was right to put her in her place."

            "I'm surprised _you did not correct her, lady Trueblade," Ashram said.  "It may be presumptuous of me to say so, but I never picture lady Imoen as the ah… disciplinarian type."_

            "Neither did I," Brynn told him frankly.  "I guess my 'morning grumpies' really _are rubbing off on her."_

            "Well I…" Hsanin began.

            A loud shout from Jaheira, who was at the other end of the room, cornered by Redleaf into a conversation of some sort, interrupted him.  "Blast it all, you freakish little bastard! What's wrong with you?"

            "N-n-now Jaheira, please don't shout so," Khalid cautioned, trying to calm his irate wife down.  "He was just trying to discuss the matter…"

            "Don't you take _his side!"_

            "I'm _n-not; I'm merely trying to point out that there is no r-reason to overreact."_

            "Yeah, I was only trying to have a philosophical debate, sweetheart, no reason to get so… _urk…" Redleaf broke off as Jaheira reached for his throat.  "Hey now, doll, no need to get violent."_

            "If you call me 'honey,' 'sweet cheeks,' 'doll,' or any variation on that theme, again I will rip your head from your neck with my _bare hands!" Jaheira threatened._

            "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey, calm down a minute! I didn't mean it rude-like, just friendly."

            Jaheira regained her composure.  "You and I, you unnatural cretin, will never be friends."  She said ominously.  Then she stomped off.

            Bewildered, Redleaf called after her, "Sorry!"  He let out a loud sigh and walked over to sit with the others.  Khalid came too, though he paused for a while, torn between going to calm his wife down and a desire to avoid confrontation.  He figured Jaheira was in the 'throwing things at walls' stage, and it was best to wait until she had vented a bit before going into range of lobbed pillows and books, among other, more deadly items.

            "Redleaf," Hsanin said, "What exactly did you say to her?"

            "Nothin'," Redleaf said, throwing his hands up in the air.

            "Not quite," Khalid corrected.

            "All right, all right," Redleaf conceded, "but I was just trying to have a friendly discussion with her."

            "Red, your version of friendly and other people's versions of friendly differ," Bryseus said.

            "Sometimes I wonder if your version of friendly borders on the obscene or not," Brynn put in.  "I remember comments on my 'bouncy bottom' and your 'weasel' from last night."

            "You had better have been kidding, friend," Yoshimo added flatly.

            "Of course I was.  And I wasn't obscene to Jaheira, just straightforward."

            "What exactly did you say?" Brynn asked.

            "Oh, I dunno, just that she and I ought to talk philosophy."

            "I _d-distinctly remember hearing you say, 'So, I think your view of this whole balance business is wrong. Let me explain,'" Khalid said._

            Brynn winced.  "Eeeug.  No wonder she reacted so badly."

            "Sometimes, Redleaf, I swear you are almost as bad as Anna," said Ashram.

            "Oh sure, compare me to a child," Redleaf grumped.  "I'm no teenager.  I'm twenty-one."

            "Actually, twenty-one for a half-elf is something like sixteen for a human," Brynn pointed out.  "So, you are a teenager."

            "Well, then that explains it.  Teenagers are as dumb as rocks.  I excuse myself from any faults," Redleaf stood up, gave a mock bow and continued, "I gotta go feed my weasel.  Thorple gets crankier than mother bear when he's hungry." He went downstairs then, whistling something to himself, completely at ease.

            "He absolves himself a lot, doesn't he?" Brynn asked.

            Hsanin nodded.  "All the time."

            "On the bright side, he seems to be very happy.  How wonderful," Yoshimo commented, his voice dripping sarcasm.

            "I th-thought Jaheira was going to-to _kill him," Khalid said emphatically.  Under his breath he added.  "I though __I m-m-might kill him too, if he d-didn't stop egging her on."_

            Brynn chuckled at that.  "This is going to be an interesting trip."


	4. chapter 4

Chapter 4

            The next day the rain still had not stopped, but the Blades and their new friends went on their way anyway, all on foot for the time being except for Ashram, who rode a tall, night-black stallion.  Brynn did a double take when she saw the horse.  It looked for all the world as wicked as its master looked, but in reality, when she walked up to give it a closer examination, proved to be of the same genial stripe as Ashram himself.  Ashram fed the beast an apple before he saddled it with his black and red-trimmed riding gear.

            "So, if you want to avoid being seen as um… well… _evil, why do you ride a black horse with black and red tack?"  Brynn asked the tall paladin._

            Ashram shrugged.  "This is the horse that came to me, and this is the tack that suited him the best.  It is as much luck as my own looks. It seemed silly to me to clad him in white and gold"

            That served as a good enough answer for Brynn, and as soon as everyone was assembled they set off.  It was a long, horribly wet walk, though the rain slackened off from a downpour to a light drizzle somewhere around noon.  Around about then the party stopped for lunch, pausing under the spreading branches of a tall oak, grateful for the shelter they provided.  They ate quickly, eager to be on their way again so that they would arrive at the De'Arnise keep before it was too long.  

            Night came while they were walking, and when they stopped again for dinner there was some debate as to whether or night they should stop for the night.  The rain suddenly picked up again though, and since they were not too far from the keep they chose to continue on in hope that they would be safe under a sheltering roof before the weather got much worse.  So they slogged on, sometimes their feet mired in the mud, sometimes their vision obscured by the driving, freezing rain, but at last they made it to the keep, unharmed except for wet clothes, and gratefully warmed themselves before a blazing fire in the main hall wrapped in soft, dry blankets.

            "First thing, as soon as I can move, I'm going down to that hot bath Brynn had put in the basement and I'm going to soak until my fingers prune up," Imoen said, shivering and leaning closer to the fire.

            "Thy fingers are pruned already," Dynaheir pointed out.

            "In that case," Imoen said, "I'll soak until they _un-prune. Care to join?"_

            "Does the sun rise in the east?"

            Redleaf sneezed loudly and cleared his throat.  "What hot bath are you ladies talking about?  'Cause if there's warm I want to be in it."

            "Redleaf, try not to be crude, please," Hsanin requested.

            "What? I don't want to be in it _with them, just in it." He sneezed again.  "I'm not really __that perverted."_

            "Just taking precautions," Hsanin replied.

            "There's a men's and a women's bath, so whenever you want you can jump in," Imoen told Redleaf.

            "Lady, lead me to it. My toes is froze!"

            Redleaf wasn't the only one who thought a hot bath sounded delicious, and soon everyone was soaking in hot water.  Afterward, warm, clean and sleepy, they all retired and fell fast asleep, letting their tired muscles sink into the soft covers of their respective beds.

***

            By the time morning came everyone was coughing and sneezing.  The inclement weather had finally caught up with their immune systems and 'the crud' had settled firmly in their lungs and throats.  Ashram was the only one spared; his divine grace kept disease at bay.  He did his best to take care of the others as possible, calling on his power to cure Anomen and Hsanin, who promptly devoted as many spells as possible to curing eight more.  The last three, Imoen, Haer'Dalis and Dynaheir, were taken care of by Redleaf.  That left all of them cured, but it would take a night of rest for the lingering effects of the cold to work the way out of their systems, so a second night was spent in the keep.

            The next morning came and the winter storms only grew worse.  Staring outside, the group discussed the prospect of venturing out, but decided that it was ill-advised to risk another bout of sickness, and plus no one really wanted to go out in the icy rain for a second time.

            "I suppose we'll try and wait for a clear day then," Brynn said with a sigh.  She knew clear days to be few and far between at that time of year.  "Or at least a better day.  I hate winter this far south.  At least at Candlekeep it _snowed instead of __sleeted."_

            "It snows," said Anomen. "Leastwise, I saw a few flakes today."

            "Yeah, but it's _wet snow, and I don't care much for it," Brynn argued._

            The rest of the day was divided between restless activity, sleep, and eating.  Bryseus sought out Brynn looking for fighting advice, but Brynn directed the younger woman to Haer'Dalis.

            "I'm not sure that my techniques will work for you," Brynn told her.  "Haer'Dalis knows some more universal techniques, and those might help you more.  But I suppose if you really want some more help later come see me and I might have a few things that'll give you some good practice.  Maybe talk to Minsc too, he's a ranger, and they all know something about the two-weapon style.  It's like their born that way or something."

            Bryseus went off, a little disappointed that she wouldn't be training with her hero, but consoled with the fact that she would still be getting the chance to train with others of similar skill.

            It was around noon when one of the doors in from the courtyard flew open and Jaheira walked in looking something like a very grumpy drowned rat.  Imoen, who was in the great hall enjoying some lunch, saw her first.  She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing and returned to her food.  

Anomen spotted the druid next, and, surprised to see her, called out, "Lady Jaheira, what are _you doing here?"_

Jaheira didn't answer him.  She just kept walking.  He followed her with his eyes until she disappeared up the stairs, and then shrugged; whatever Jaheira's purpose was it wasn't really so much of his business that he needed to pester her about it.  He'd find out later anyway.

Finally Jaheira tracked her quarry to the library.  Khalid, Brynn and Yoshimo had taken to the large, comfortable chairs there and were discussing various things of little importance while they waited for the rain to stop.  Khalid had a book open in his lap, intent on finding out some specific detail about their topic of conversation.

"Brynn," Jaheira said.  She sneezed.  "I decided that I will be joining you after all."

Three sets of eyes turned and regarded Jaheira with surprise.

"When did you get here?" Brynn asked.  "No, never mind that, you must be freezing! Do you want to get into some dry clothes?"

"Is s-something the matter in the grove, dear?" Khalid inquired solicitously.  He put his book down, his quest forgotten for the time being, and went over to his shivering, soggy wife.

"I never made it to the grove," Jaheira replied.  She took Khalid's seat, earning a quiet chuckle from Yoshimo.  "I started there, but decided that you would need all the help you could get on this damn fool crusade of yours."

"I'll go f-fetch you a blanket and some tea," Khalid offered, at a loss for what to do now that he had nowhere to sit besides the floor.  He left the room with a sigh.

"'Damn fool crusade?'" Brynn asked.

Jaheira nodded sharply.  "Damn fool crusade," she confirmed.  "You need not kill everything that threatens society.  Sometimes I think a good dragon attack would do Athkatla some good."

"So then why are coming with us?" Yoshimo asked.  "As you said before, the grove might need you."

"I imagine the lot of you will need me more," Jaheira replied.  "Especially with that damned idiot that claims he's a druid chasing your heels.  Someone has to balance out his bad influence."

It became very clear then that all Jaheira really wanted to do was make sure Redleaf reformed and became her version of what a druid ought to be.  Brynn hoped that Jaheira would learn to live with the idea that some people had different ideas of how the world should be even if they followed the same calling in life.  

Yoshimo hoped he could be there when the two druids got into a philosophical 'debate' because it was bound to be interesting to say the least.  Besides which, someone might have to pull the two of them apart if things got ugly.  Or someone might desire to help Jaheira beat the stuffing out of Redleaf if he made one more 'sweet cheeks' comment about Brynn.  Ever.

Khalid returned then with the blanket and a cup of hot tea.  He gave both to his wife and stood awkwardly before sighing again and sitting down on the rug in the center of the room.  "You should g-get out of those wet clothes s-soon," he cautioned, ever watchful over his beloved wife.

"I will be fine," Jaheira assured him.  She sneezed again.  "Damn dusty books!"

"I don't know," Brynn said.  "Something's been going around.  We were all sick right after we got here."

"I do not get sick," Jaheira said firmly.  Again a violent sneeze.  She sniffed and sipped her tea delicately.  "Now then, what are your plans?"

"Well, as soon as the weather clears up a bit we'll be heading out toward Balagos' lair to look for signs of the halfling and his party," Brynn explained.  "That's about it.  Hopefully Minsc will still be able to track them despite the weather."

"Doubtful."

Brynn grinned lopsidedly.  "Listen, Merry Sunshine," she said, "why don't you go dry off and get warm?"

"I think I will," Jaheira said.  She stood, wrapping the blanket about her like a  royal cloak, one hand peaking out to hold he cup, and then walked off with a dignified grace that was ruined only by a fourth loud sneeze.

"Oh dear," said Khalid.  "I'm afraid she w-w-will be doing that for a while.  I d-don't think she will let anyone heal her.  She doesn't get sick, after all."  He smiled affectionately, shaking his head at his wife's foibles.

Brynn shrugged.  "I hope she won't be _that stubborn."_

"One never knows."

***

Despite her protests Jaheira _did get sick, and she took it out on all those who approached, especially poor Redleaf, who, feeling sorry for his fellow druid, offered to heal her.  He was chased away by a storm of fury and small, thrown objects.  Sickness, according to Jaheira, was part of nature, and anyway, she wasn't sick.  All the Blades could do was shake their heads and wonder at Jaheira's sudden and irrational behavior.  Usually, she was the voice of reason within the group, advising caution and thought, and though she was stubborn she could be brought around to a logical point of view.  Not this time though.  _

It might not have been a problem had the weather not cleared the day after Jaheira's sudden arrival.  The druid was determined to go with the group, but she was obviously in no condition to go, and so hoping to spare her friend, Brynn tried to delay the expedition.  Angry at being 'mollycoddled' for no good reason, Jaheira demanded that they leave.  She wasn't sick after all, and so there was no reason to stay.  Reluctantly Brynn agreed, and so the party set off on horseback, hoping to pick up the trail of Lesley Surefoot and his companions.

The going was slow at first, mostly because no one wanted to stress Jaheira out while she was ill, but then Jaheira got a whiff of what was going on and, sagging in her saddle with sweat beading up on her brow and her skin ashen-pale, she picked up the pace and sent everyone scurrying along at a good attempt at a forced march.

Night finally came and everyone sunk gratefully into their bedrolls in their tents and fell promptly asleep except Jaheira, who in consideration for Khalid and his need to sleep, settled herself under a tree and had a coughing fit.  

It was there that Redleaf tracked her down, cornered her and said, "Listen, I don't know why you hate me so much, but it's going to kill you if you don't cut it out."

"Is…" Jaheira sneezed, "is that a threat?"

"No, it's a prediction," Redleaf replied.  "At the rate you're going now you'll be dead before my liver, and that's saying something.  Look at you, you're a sickly mess."

"I do not get sick."

"The Hells you don't.  What're you trying to prove? That you're better than me? You win!  I coulda told you that when we first met.  It was never even a contest.  Now sit still and let me heal you…"

"The day I let you lay a finger on me is the day Anomen marries Haer'Dalis."

Redleaf chuckled.  "Well, Anna has this theory about bards… but never mind that.  Why?  What did I do to make you hate me, huh?"

"What didn't you do, you aberrant freak?  You claim to be a druid, but you have no care for the greater balance.  All you care about is wenching and drinking!"

"Now that's not fair.  You don't know me at all."

Jaheira launched into a spasm of coughing.  "I know…" she began when the coughing subsided, "I know you well enough.  You revere nature only for the powers that it grants you, not for… for its greatness."

"Well," said Redleaf, "If we're going to be throwing accusations around I could say that you're the product of a totalitarian regime that cares only about protecting its own philosophies against any sort of change at all, and that, in your misguided attempts to maintain perfect balance, you're barking up the wrong tree, so to speak. But I'd rather not be throwing accusations around.  So I'll just defend myself against you unfair judgment instead."  He fixed her with a gimlet stare.  "I'll have you know I _love nature.  Love it to pieces.  It's the only place that's ever been home to me, the only place where I can be something other than a half-breed, or the whore's son, or Ulliir's bastard brat.  And pardon me if I like to indulge myself from time to time.  What's not natural about that, huh? What's not natural about liking to look at women?  Say what you want about me and my behavior, but never say I don't revere nature, 'cause nature's about the only thing I've got."_

"Fine, fine, you revere nature," Jaheira conceded reluctantly.  "But you do it the wrong way.  There is no good or evil in nature, no inherent tendency toward law or chaos, it simply _is.  Nature exists outside of such things, it balances, and it is the duty of druids to protect nature, and thus to protect that balance!  When we veer too much toward an extreme we move against the will of nature and upset the Balance.  Though you love nature, you disturb it with your extreme behavior, ignoring the Balance in favor of your own personal whims."_

Redleaf sighed.  "I don't ignore the Balance," he argued.  "If I ignored the Balance I'd be like… like an ascetic monk, seeking only control.  I like control just fine, but I like my freedom to.  That's the real balancing act.  That's the crux of our dilemma as druids: The balancing of the controlled environment of cities with the wild of nature."

"I can agree with that much."

"See, we're not that different," Redleaf pointed out.  "I think the main sticking point between us two is the good-and-evil axis.  I disagree that there's no inherent bias between good and evil in nature."

"How can you say that?" Jaheira demanded angrily.  "Nature both creates and destroys, it is full of good and evil, and as a whole is a neither black nor white, but a swirling mix of grays."

"Yeah, sure, but wouldn't you say that natural ways are good as opposed to unnatural ones?"

"Of course!"

            "Well then, I say nature is good!"

            "You cannot simply make a leap like that!"

            "Just watch me," Redleaf told her.  "When I was a boy I loved more than anything to watch birds.  Sweet green leaves! They come in more shapes and colors and sizes than anything else except bugs, and bugs aren't nearly as fun to watch.  I especially loved baby birds.  They're the ugliest goddamned things on the face of Toril, but they're beautiful because of it.  So, there was this nest of songbirds in a special copse of trees near the grove, and I watched them as they grew.  When they came close to fledging I was so excited.  I could've been their mother for all that I loved them.  One day I went to see them –they weren't but a few days from being able to fly- and I found the whole nest had been eaten but one.  I wept like a little girl, as much as I hate to admit it.  I picked up that one little baby bird, squeaking and calling for its mama, and I carried it back to the grove, dressed its wounds, and set it somewhere nice and warm.  Then I went out again, and tracked what had killed its nest mates.  I was so angry I thought I'd pop a blood vessel.  I just wanted to wring the neck of whatever had hurt my little birds.  How could anything be so awful? I wondered.  Eventually I found the culprit, a raccoon.  I found her curled up in her nest with a litter of babies of her own, not much more than a few days old.  And it hit me; that raccoon had killed and eaten my baby birds so that it could feed its babies.  I felt like a dope.  Here I had been thinking that raccoon musta been the most vile thing on earth, and it was just caring for its kids like the mama bird was.  There was no evil in that, it was nature.  If the baby birds hadn't died, maybe those raccoon babies woulda died, and so on and so forth to the top of the food chain.  And that mama bird, she'd killed bugs and worms and stuff to feed her babies, hadn't she? That wasn't evil, except maybe to the worm, and even then, something had to die so that the worms could eat it, right?  That was nature's way.  It all lead back to some greater good in the end, the way I saw it."

            He stopped, and gave Jaheira a hopeful smile.  "So there's my leap.  Nature's balanced, but nature's ways are good, in the end.  All that's natural is good.  Life's good and death, when it serves nature's purpose, is good too."

            Jaheira was silent for a moment.  "I still think you are wrong," she said at last.  She sneezed.

            Redleaf sighed wearily.  "I figured as much."

            "However," Jaheira continued, "perhaps your views have merit in their own way, though I do not believe them."

            Relief flooded Redleaf's face.  "I'm glad you said that, otherwise we mighta been here all night.  How are you feeling then?"

            "I have a slight cough but I believe I can cure myself, thank you," Jaheira told him.

            "That's great, because the last thing this little insane vacation needs is a plague. So, friends?" Redleaf stuck out one of his hands.

            "Friends," Jaheira agreed grudgingly, clasping his hand.  They shook on it and went their separate ways for night.  

To Be Continued

________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Anyone _not see this debate coming? I guess it just shows to go ya the differences between a Silvanus druid and a Mielikki druid.  Up next: The resurfacing of a familiar(?) face._


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